


Waiting

by Luzula



Category: due South
Genre: Angst, M/M, Zombies, ds_snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-10
Updated: 2009-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-03 01:36:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luzula/pseuds/Luzula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was nothing to do but wait, now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: character turning into zombie.   
> This is for Akamine_chan, for obvious reasons (namely, her fascination with zombies). Thanks to Keerawa for beta reading. The poem quoted is [November](http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/november/), by Walter de la Mare.   
> Prompt: smooth

Fraser turned the key on the handcuffs that held him to the sturdy frame of the bed, then threw the keys into the living room.

The cuffs were cold and smooth against his wrists. Nothing to do but wait, now.

There was a letter on the table for Ray, in case Fraser couldn't speak by the time Ray came back. Fraser didn't know how quickly the symptoms would progress.

If they would--he wasn't sure, yet. If he had been, he would've shot himself with his service revolver.

She had looked so young, and he'd thought she was lost. He'd looked up from his wood-chopping, to tell her the way to town.

She'd struck, fast as a coiled snake. A struggle, her clinging arms, the axe falling. She lay still.

Afterwards, he could see her grey-tinged skin, the crusted blood around her mouth, and the damage the axe had done. It took away one's mind, he knew that, and she hadn't been human anymore. Still, nausea rose in him. In the letter, he'd asked Ray to bury her body.

Fraser looked at the bite marks on his arm--deep, but not quite enough to draw blood.

The light had moved minutely over the bedroom floor. Why hadn't he put a book within reach before throwing the keys away? With his feet, he managed to fetch the poetry book on the bedside table.

He read, and waited for time to pass.

_There is wind where the rose was,  
Cold rain where sweet grass was._

Fraser blinked, losing the thread of the words. He tried to focus.

_Nought warm where your hand was._

Soon, the letters were only black squiggles on the page, and he couldn't make sense of them. Fraser slowly put the book down.

_Silence where hope was._


End file.
